Five Times Taylor Stark met an Avenger
by IronSparrow99
Summary: ...and one time they all introduced her. This is for those who wonder how Taylor first wormed her way into the hearts and lives of our intrepid bunch of heroes.
1. Bruce

Bruce

"See? Candyland. I told you so." Tony proclaims triumphantly as I follow him into one of the many labs of Stark Tower on my guided tour of my new home.

Yes, home. Tony – after a few weeks of incessant whining, pleading, poking, and shocking – had convinced me to come and stay with him at Stark tower. And, I had to admit, the place was really nice. Top of the line equipment, heated tile, exotic foods…

"Bruce?"

I jump slightly and look at Tony, who is standing in the middle of the lab, leaning against one of the tables, and looking at me strangely.

"Anyone home up there? I've called your name like five times."

"Oh." I rub the back of my neck uneasily. "Sorry about that…"

He just shrugs. "No problem, big guy. Now, as I was saying, you don't have any problem with teenagers do you?"

"Depends on the kid." I narrow my eyes at him. "Why?"

I get no response, Tony just continues across the lab like he didn't hear a word I just said. I sigh and follow him to the other door, leading to another part of the tower, when a detail stops me in my tracks.

One of the tables near the door is cluttered with papers, tools, wires, and scraps, all around an open and running laptop, showing coding and graphs onscreen. It definitely looked used, that's for sure.

"Bruce? Are you coming-" Tony starts to ask when he notices I've stopped, then he turns and sees me staring at the workspace. He then shoves his hands in his pockets and sighs, like he's expecting – _anticipating_ – whatever I'm about to say.

"Is this yours?" I wave a hand towards the table.

"No." he replies, unusually clipped and brief.

"Okay…will, if not yours and obviously not mine, then who…?"

He sighs again. "Jarvis, can you call up Taylor please?"

" _At once, sir."_

I jump at the sophisticated British voice emitting from the ceiling.

"That's just Jarvis." Tony explains, smirking slightly at my reaction. "He runs the house. He's my AI, my second greatest creation."

"What could be greater than an AI?" I wonder aloud, but Tony ignores that question too, instead opting to look at something past me.

"You called?"

I jump – again – and turn to see a teenage girl casually standing in the doorway, wearing a white t-shirt covered with a plaid over shirt and a pair of light wash jeans and a pair of black sneakers, headphones slung around her neck.

"I did." Tony answers her question. "Taylor, this is Doctor Bruce Banner, your new housemate."

 _Housemate?_

"Ah, Doctor Banner." she greets my in a similar manner to Tony, hand extended. "Nice to meet you. Big fan of both your work and your lean, mean, green machine of an alter ego."

"Uh…thanks?" I reply unsure as we shake hands and she steps back to stand next to Tony.

Tony sighs. "So…introductions. Taylor, meet Doctor Bruce Banner, aka Hulk – sorry, the Other Guy. Bruce, meet Taylor…Stark. Taylor Stark, my fourteen year old daughter."

My jaw drops, although it really should have been more obvious, looking at the similarities between the two. Same brunette hair, same casual air, same genius twinkle in their eyes. Although, her eyes are blue while his are a hazel-ish color.

"So that's why you asked if I liked teens."

"Yep." he nods. "That's her station," he nods towards the table I had noticed earlier. "Speaking of, I think your diagnostics are almost done." he reminds Taylor, who nods and jogs over to the table, focusing entirely on the laptop.

"So…you're a dad?" I turn to Tony as he walks back over to me.

"Yep. Since May 30th, 1999."

I hum and nod slowly. "If you don't mind me asking…the mother?"

He winces. "A sore subject."

"Right, right. Sorry." I backpedal quickly. "So, how are you on the father front?"

He points at Taylor, who is now sitting with her feet propped on the desk. "Taylor Stark: second smartest person in the world, MIT sophomore, and a _really_ fast hacker. At fourteen years old."

I nod with a grin. "I expected no less."

"Also," he adds, "Iron Beta: teenage superhero and my sidekick."

"Hey!" she protests. "I heard that. I am no one's sidekick."

"Yes you are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are – I am not doing this with you."

She laughs and turns back to her computer. "I won."

He just rolls his eyes and turns back to me. "Hope you don't mind me not mentioning this."

I shake my head. "No, not at all. I understand. Plus, it never really came up in conversation. "Like, 'hey, a maniac alien god is taking over Manhattan, we need to save the world, and oh by the way I have a daughter.'"

Both Starks almost fall over laughing, and soon I join in.

I said I like teenagers depending on the kid.

I think Taylor Stark and I will get along just fine.


	2. Steve

Steve

"Has anyone seen Stark?" I ask from my seat on top of a barstool, in the newly renovated Stark Tower.

Bruce look up from his book with a frown. "Not since last night. I suggest checking the lab downstairs. Second level."

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face and folding my newspaper as I stand and head for the stairs. Thanks to being extremely serum-enhanced, I made it down to the second floor in about a minute.

It wasn't hard to pick the right lab out of a floor full of them. I just had to follow the teeth-rattling music.

"Stark, I swear if you're down here drunk again-" I yell as I fling the unlocked door open.

But he isn't there. Someone is, though.

A head pokes out from underneath the car in the room. A brunette dame – er, _woman_ – with blue eyes that seem to be studying my every move. "Can I help you, Captain?"

"Um…er…yes…I was wondering where Mr. Stark was?" I stutter out. The woman slides out from beneath the car and wipes her hands on a rag. She's still young, definitely under twenty five.

She looks up at the ceiling. "Jarvis, where is he?"

" _Sir is in the back room looking for parts for project 2A-1r0nm4N, ma'am."_

I jump at the voice coming out of the ceiling, and the girl sighs. "That's Jarvis, the computer that runs the house. I'll…I'll explain later, come on."

I follow her through the cluttered lab to a back door, where a door opens and she leads me back into an even bigger space, this one stocked floor to ceiling with shelves, like in a library, except these held wires and metal and tools, not books.

"Where is Stark?"

She shrugs. "Somewhere in here. He knows we came in, now we wait."

I sigh again. "So who are you? An assistant?"

"No."

"A girlfriend?"

"Heck no."

"A sister?"

"Nope."

"A wife?"

"Ew, no."

"Then-" I'm cut off by a figure jogging towards us, covered in motor oil. "Stark!"

"Captain." he acknowledges me, the turns to the girl. "Thanks, Taylor. Now don't you have a car to work on?"

She nods and heads for the door, and Stark turns back to me. "What do you need?"

"To find you. Would it kill you to spend more time with your team mates?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "I don't know Cap, I'm doing some pretty important work down here. Don't worry your pretty little head over it, Capsicle."

He turns to go back to whatever he was doing, but I stop him with a hand on his arm, causing him to whirl back around.

"Hey! Listen to me while I'm talking, will you? All I'm asking is that you come up and spend time with people like a normal person-"

"Newsflash, Cap, none of us are normal!"

"Well you could act like it, instead of being a hermit 24/7!"

"I'm not being a hermit! I have company!"

"Oh yeah, the girl. What is she, your latest bimbo? You like 'em young, don't you Stark?"

I fail to notice his eyes darken slightly. "Hey!-"

"How does she stand you? You're cocky, stuck up, insufferable-"

"Captain!" another voice enters the conversation, and I turn to see the girl walking back in, this time with power in her stride and she looks mad.

"Ma'am?"

"Don't call me ma'am. And lay off, will you?" she snaps, going to stand in front of the billionaire.

"I'm perfectly capable of defending myself, you know that, right?" he speaks up from behind her.

"I know." she assures him, but she doesn't move, just crosses her arms. "Why would you say those things, Rogers?"

"Because they are true. Look, I don't know who you are, but this is a two man conversation, I would suggest you step out." I advise her.

She glares at me. "And what? Go cook? Clean? Act like I'm delicate? No. And you brought me into this, remember?"

I sigh. This girl is reminding me of Stark, and my temper is running out. "Look, ma'am-"

"Do. Not. Call. Me. That."

"Taylor, it's okay." Tony steps out from behind the girl and lays a hand on her arm. She looks at him, and they seem to have a silent conversation with their expressions, before she sighs and takes a step back.

"Thank you. Now, Stark-"

"Rogers, shut up and listen for a moment will you?"

I click my jaw shut.

"Now, introductions. Rogers, this is Taylor. Taylor Stark."

"Sister or wife?" I narrow my eyes.

"Neither. Daughter." he smugly tells me.

My jaw drops and my eyes bulge. "You have a kid?! Why do we not know this?"

He shrugs. "Bruce does. The rest of you will find out on your own."

I sigh. "I have to deal with two of you now?"

"Hey!" they both object simultaneously.

I turn to the girl – Taylor, looking up and down. "How old are you, anyways, kid?"

She looks annoyed as she taps her foot. "Fourteen."

My jaw goes slack again. "Why are you not in school or something?"

She smirks and gets a devilish twinkle in her blue eyes. "I'm a genius and MIT isn't in session right now."

Isn't MIT a college? The one Stark – the older Stark – went to?

I just decide to throw my arms up exasperatedly. "You know what? Just…forget it. I don't…can't…"

Both Starks glance at me before Taylor turns to her dad. "The gear shift on the car is being fussy, can you come check it out?"

He nods with a smile. "Yeah. Race you!"

They both take off towards the door and hit the lights on their way out, leaving me in a huge warehouse with little light.

"You can find your own way out, Capsicle."

"Don't forget to ask your friendly neighborhood AI for help!"

Oh my…they're multiplying.

This will be fun.


	3. Clint

Clint

"And one more thing: can you please not permanently nest in my vents?"

I roll my eyes at the billionaire but nod. "Sure thing, Tony. So no nesting in the vents, your room, the labs, or anyone else's room?"

He nods cheerfully. "Yep. Except Romanoff's room, if she's cool with that…" he trails off with a shrug.

I chuckle. Tony opens his mouth to add more places to my 'no nest' list, but he's cut off by his phone ringing Shinedown's _Diamond Eyes._ His brow scrunches as he studies the screen for a moment, before taking a few steps away and answering the phone.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, really. Just, he wasn't that far away, so…

"Is everything okay? You're still in session, right?"

"Calm down, Taylor, what-"

"Okay, remember what Happy taught you, just-"

"Okay, okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I will. Bye."

I quickly duck, turn, and assume a mask of innocence as Tony walks back to me, shoving his phone in his pocket. "I'm going to have to cut the tour short, sorry. Do you know if Banner is free?"

I shake my head. "Meeting at HQ."

"Rogers?"

"With Banner. Why? You hate him."

He sighs. "How would you like to go run an errand?"

I frown slightly at his obvious deflection of the question, but nod hesitantly. "What, like, grocery shopping, or…?"

He shakes his head as he shrugs on a coat and grabs a set of keys, walking quickly towards the elevator. I have no choice but to follow.

 **A~A~A**

Fifteen minutes later, a silver four-door Porsche is pulling up in front of a school of some sort. Tony quickly gets out and begins walking again. I quickly catch up, then decide to find out why I've been dragged here.

"Where are we?"

"Cornell Tech."

"Why?"

He looks at me with sharp eyes. "When did this become a game of twenty questions?"

I raise my hands in surrender. "Okay, jeez, sorry. Touchy…"

He pays me no mind and just picks up the pace, glancing at his phone every ten seconds.

And then we both freeze as we hear the scream – a girl's scream – bounce off the building around us.

I quickly unclip the pistol at my hip while Tony just runs even faster, faster than I've ever seen him move.

We round the corner to see a sight that not only was I the victim of numerous times, but still gets my blood to boil.

Three big, ripped meatheads in jersey are crowded around a huddled shape pressed against the brick wall, assaulting their victim with both jeers and blows.

I'm about to make my presence known but Tony beats me to it, shouting with more concern and fear in his voice than I've heard since…ever.

"Taylor, run for it!"

The huddled figure moves suddenly, leaving a purple blur as it takes off, running away from the buildings. The person easily vaults over a four foot fence before ducking behind some dumpsters.

"Hey!"

I whirl around to see the goons advancing towards us, their knuckles being cracked like chestnuts over a fire.

"What'd you do that for?" the ringleader demands (read: whines).

"You need to pick on someone your own size." I snarl.

"And who are you to decide that?" the kid challenges with narrowed eyes.

I just glare at them and clench my jaw.

"Scared, old man?" one of the other kids taunts.

I press my teeth harder.

"Oh, you are scared." the ringleader announces, and then the chicken squawks start.

And, for some unknown reason, that causes me to snap.

I lunge for the ringleader and toss him aside easily, watching briefly as he skids a few feet on the pavement. I then duck the punch a kid throws, catching his arm and twisting it behind him and sweeping his feet out from under him. I just have to send a stormy glare towards kid three to have him running screaming for mommy.

After that little…escapade, I dust off my shirt and jog back towards where I left Tony. I find him standing next to a teenage girl, maybe early teens, wearing a rumpled purple hoodie and looking incredibly tired.

Tony clears his throat. "Taylor, meet your knight in shining armor, Clint Barton, Hawkeye. Clint, meet your damsel in distress, Taylor Stark."

We both glare at him for the knight and princess comments. Something tells me this girl is no princess.

"Stark?"

"Yes." he nods. "Stark. Taylor Stark, my daughter of fourteen years."

I just nod. It's not surprising, honestly; they have the same hair, face shape, stance…

I look towards Taylor to find her sapphire blue eyes – _pretty_ , my subconscious muses – studying me.

So I take the time to do the same.

She's about four and a half feet tall. Her short, clipped chocolate brown hair is slightly mussed, but that's to be expected. Her blue eyes scream intelligence and harbor a twinkle not unlike that of her father's.

We both are snapped out of our musing when Tony clears his throat again, loudly. "Taylor, what happened?"

She sighs and slumps her shoulders as she turns to face Tony. "In class, earlier, I sorta told everyone that one of those kids was wrong, 'cause he was, and then afterward they just came and taunted and I taunted back until they threw the first punch. Before that though, I kinda saw it coming and I called you."

Tony sighs and runs a hand through his hair, but nods anyways. "Comes with being a nerd, sorry."

"Yeah." she drawls. "I'm just your average fourteen year old MIT sophomore."

I blink a little. "Sophomore?"

She shrugs. "198 IQ. Genius."

"Master archer, superior eyesight. Nice to meet you." I tease as I stick out a hand.

She shakes it firmly. "You too."

She and tony begin their way back to the car, but I hang back for a few seconds and watch them. Her, to be specific.

I don't know what, exactly, but something tells me…

Something tells me that girl's gonna be special. Not just to me, but to society and the world as a whole.


	4. Natasha

**A/N**

 **This will be in two parts. One chapter, but two parts. Because Natasha sort of met Taylor twice, once as Natalie Rushman and then for real as Natasha Romanoff.**

* * *

Natasha (take one: Natalie Rushman)

"You are the new assistant, right? Correct me if I'm wrong."

I glance up and brush a scarlet curl out of my face to see Tony Stark, the one and only, leaning against the doorframe to my office. "Yes, Mr. Stark, that'd be me. How may I help you?"

He shakes his head and enters the room, taking a seat at one of the chairs in the room. "No, no, no help needed at the moment. Just wanted to, ah, welcome you to – as I'm told – the hectic stinking mess that is Stark Industries."

I nod. "I like whomever told you that. They're right, by the way."

He quirks an eyebrow. "Want to meet them?"

"Who?"

"The person that told me that."

"Is it a girlfriend?"

"No."

I give a small shrug and set the paperwork I was working on to the side. "Can't hurt, I suppose. Lead the way, Mr. Stark."

"Call me Tony."

"Mr. Stark."

"Fine, be that way."

I roll my eyes at his back as he leads me down many winding corridors – which I already knew my way through, thank you blueprints – and up a few elevators until we stop in front of a door, which he actually knocks on instead of barging in.

Hm. Shocking.

A young, female voice grants us entry, and we walk into what looks to be a smaller, slightly more secluded version of the communal living room a few floors down.

The only occupant – other than Stark and I – is a young (early teens, maybe?) girl standing by the couch, playing what looks to be a holographic pinball game. Her back is to us, but by the way her eyes immediately flick to the TV – where I'm certain our reflections are held – I know she's aware of us.

Smart kid.

"Taylor." Stark calls out, and the girl – Taylor – swipes a hand through her game and turns to face us. Her blue eyes hover over me, but she doesn't say anything.

"Taylor, this is Natalie Rushman, the new PA. Natalie, this is Taylor Stark, my…my daughter."

I blink once, hiding the entirety of my surprise. A daughter?! A daughter. Why was this not in a file? Which dossier missed _this_ , this huge, gigantic detail-

"Ms. Rushman." I blink again at Taylor, who is suddenly in front of me extending a hand, wearing a smile that I can instantly tell is too toothy, strained and fake, although _very_ well practiced.

I give a small grin and shake her hand. "Ms. Stark, nice to meet you."

"Call me Taylor. Warning you now: buy Advil in bulk."

I allow a small smirk. "Already planning that, ma'am. Anything else?"

"Come get me if you need him out of the labs, I'll have a higher chance of success."

"Of course. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a mountain of paperwork to complete." I politely dismiss myself.

"Let me show you back to your office." Stark – Tony – offers, and Taylor just rolls her eyes before restarting her hologram. Tony starts towards the door, but I hesitate for a moment and risk a glance over my shoulder.

Taylor's turned back to her game, but her shoulder are slightly hunched and tense. Her gaze is locked on the black TV, and I meet the blurry reflection of her eyes.

I can see familiar walls there – she's like the Fort Knox of teenage girls – but I can also detect an element of understanding, as if she knows that what she's looking at isn't the entire story. She probably knows that my name isn't Natalie, but I know she'll keep quiet because there's also a foreboding shadow in those eyes, like she knows something is coming but she's not sure what, and whatever it is – whomever I am – help _will_ be needed.

I give her an almost imperceptible nod – barely a twitch – to which she blinks and mirrors.

"Natalie?"

"Coming, Mr. Stark."

* * *

Take two: Natasha Romanoff

"Ms. _Rushman_."

I whirl around as I detect the condescending voice, coming face to face with a blue-eyed figure I haven't seen in at least six months leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. "Ms. Stark."

"Oh come _on_ , can't you call me Taylor now?"

I sigh. "Ms. Stark. How's the pinball coming?" I ask, referring to our first meeting.

She shrugs noncommittally. "The hologram collapsed. Wasn't a big project anyways, I was soon busy enough with the whole Vanko mess while you sorted the palladium."

I nod. Nobody says anything for a while, so I take the time to see what those six months have done to the younger Stark.

She's definitely darker, more sure of herself; I'm assuming she's following the saying about stuff not killing you but making you stronger. Her stance is casual but a little more tense, her gaze a little heavier, her eyes a little sharper. Her blue orbs still hold that penetrating, understanding shadow as she combs me up and down.

Her stance itself is casual, leaning easily against the doorframe, but I can see the little things. Her arms are defensively crossed over her chest, her mouth holds a slight frown, and her entire body is stock-still, ready and waiting to react to anything and everything.

The biggest surprise is probably the gun belt cinched around her hips: one gum on each side, a flash of sliver behind her. I can tell by the way her ankles are crossed that she probably has another gun and knife underneath her pant legs.

She clears her throat quietly, but that's enough to bring my eyes back to hers.

"Thank you." she whispers, barely audible. "For your help."

I allow a small smile. "You're welcome, but I don't think he could have survived the entire ordeal without you by his side." I assure her, no clarification needed on the subject of discussion,

"He wouldn't have _survived_ without you. He'd be dead by his own artificial heart, then where would I be?"

"Running the company."

"As a fourteen year old? Ha. No, I see foster homes."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. could've taken you in." I point out.

She shakes her head. "As a pet project, not a responsibility. Just…it doesn't matter. He lived and we're okay. He did destroy the Malibu house, though."

"Where are you two living now?"

"Where is the Hellicarrier at the moment?"

"D.C."

"Then I think we're somewhere in Virginia. He's building a tower in Manhattan, though."

She nods. "Big city, more costumers."

"More money, too." she adds.

"Always a perk." I agree. "Hey, would you like a tour of the base while we're here?"

She blinks and shrugs. "Sure, I guess."

"Right this way." I invite, turning and heading for the other door. "Coming, Ms. Stark?"

"Be right there, Ms. Rush – er, Agent Romanoff."


	5. Loki ('cause I can't write Thor POV)

Loki

 **(Don't hate me, I just couldn't write Thor POV)**

"Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity."

"Uh...actually, I'm planning to threaten you."

I raise an eyebrow at the mortal in front of me. "You should have left your armor on for that."

He just shrugs as he pulls out a bottle from underneath the bar. "Yeah, it's seen a bit of mileage. You've got the blue stick of destiny. Would you like a drink?"

I just stare at him. _How idiotic can mortals get?_ "Stalling me won't change anything."

"No, no, no! Threatening." he assures me. "No drink? You sure? I'm having one."

I just roll my eyes and sigh dryly. "The Chitauri are coming, and nothing will change that. What have I to fear, exactly?"

"The Avengers." he says simply.

 _What in the nine realms…?_

"It's what we call ourselves, sort of like a team." he clarifies. "Earth's Mightiest Heroes type of thing."

"Yes, I've met them." I say exasperatedly. _Come on, I have a word to dominate here…_

"Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction." he admits. "But, let's do a head count here. Your brother, the demi-God; a super soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend; a man with breath-taking anger management issues; a couple of master assassins, and…" he trails of, shifting his weight slightly.

"And?" I push on, my interest peaked.

"Not important. The point is-"

"Oh, no, Man of Iron, _please_ go on. Who is the seventh 'Avenger'? It wouldn't be the one you converse with in any spare time?"

"Listen, maniac-"

"Who is this seventh hero? A boy?"

No response.

"Ah, then a girl."

A small spark.

"A wife, perhaps? A girlfriend? No? A child, perhaps?"

Yes, a child. Because at that word, something snaps. The mortal steps forward, all formalities lost. When he speaks, his voice is dark, hard, and cold. "You listen, Laufreyson, and you listen well. You take any action whatsoever against Taylor-"

Ah, a name.

"-even so much as lay a _finger_ on my daughter, there will be no point in you taking over any worlds because there will be no _you_ left. I will gut you like a fish and feed you to sharks, to start. That is only the tip of the iceberg of what I will do to you if you do _anything_ against her. Understand?"

"Ha, you puny mortal-"

He takes a step closer to me and a muscle in his jaw jumps. "Do. You. Understand?"

I blink at him. "Yes, I suppose."

"Good. Now, as I was saying-"

I cut him off by stepping forward and raising my scepter. I think I see a shadow flicker and a glint of purple over his shoulder, but I dismiss it as my excitement getting the best of me.

I turn my attention back to the Man of Iron, shaking my head.

I have better things to do than chase shadows.

Like take over a world.

 **A~A~A**

 _Thud._

 _Scrape._

 _Rattle._

 _Repeat._

My shackled ankles scuff and drag on the pavement as Thor leads me to the center of the designated area for our trip to Asgard.

And I have a muzzle on, as well as both wrist and ankle shackles. And an audience.

I can see the Man of Iron approaching with the beast, and the spy with the red ledger standing next to my faithful ex-minion.

Shame I lost him.

The man out of time is standing quietly off to the side, watching the Tesseract with copious amounts of detest in his eyes.

Then something – _someone_ – else catches my eye.

There's another person present, and it's not my scientist minion, Selvig was his name?

No, this one is a quiet mortal, dressed in a dark purple long sleeved shirt and black...jeans, yes? The mortal is female, young as well – not even one thousand in Asgardian years. A child even in Midgardian years, so what in the nine realms is she doing here?

The child is casually leaning against the Man of Iron's vehicle, her arms crossed defensively. The light catches her brown hair as she turns her head slightly, and my brain suddenly makes a connection.

I glance over at the Man of Iron. He and this child both have the same hair color, face shape, and build. Her eyes are obscured by dark black sunglasses, but I would say that their eye color is at least similar.

Of course.

This must be Taylor, the Man of Iron's daughter. The one he so heatedly warned me about.

A quick look around shows nobody else seeming to notice the girl, and she must have seen me notice this because she looks directly at me and raises a hand.

The hand _flickers._

Ah, a projection. Not a bad idea.

The Man of Iron and the beast turn back to their car as Thor calls my attention and holds up the Tesseract.

I keep my gaze on the girl just long enough for her image to flicker before blinking out completely, and the two men now entering the car are none the wiser.

This child, this girl, seems smart. Quiet, but smarter than a lot of Midgardians I had seen.

I have a feeling I'd like her if I didn't absolutely hate her.


	6. And one

Plus One

Steve's POV

I nudge a sleepy Bruce awake as he begins to nod off for the fifth time, and he blinks blearily at me as he runs a hand through his hair.

"I know you're tired," I mumble, "but…"

"I get it, Steve." he assures me. "We need to be here for Taylor. It's just really boring…"

"Yeah, it is." I agree. "I have no idea how they do it. Wake Clint up for me, will you?" I glace at the sleeping archer across the table as I turn back to the main conference table in the center of the room.

Tony was at an expo in Nevada, so Taylor currently held his place at the head of the table, acting as his second in command and Vice President. The business side of the team management was normally left to the Starks, the ones with the most experience in fending off reporters and ruling meetings.

Today Taylor was working a board of investors and trying to push through an app that can show what a person might look like with different colored eyes, lips, or hair color, based off a conversation we had a few weeks ago on the spread of eye colors on the team.

"I will ask again, Miss Stark; why does this matter to us? Why does it appeal to the general populous?" a cigar-smoking suited benefactor sighs exasperatedly, even though Taylor has told him why several times.

"Mr. Martens, I have said this once, I will say it a thousand times; people are naturally curious creatures. You have green eyes, correct sir?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, are you not curious as to what your eyes look like with a blue tint? Do you want to know what your optimal eye color is? Once a person finds an eye color they like, they will most likely go out and buy colored contacts or order them online. Therefore, this app will increase sales for that business as well-"

"We do not care about _their_ business, Miss Stark, we care about _our_ business! Why should we care if it benefits them?" demands Martens, his face slowly growing red.

"So we should completely ignore opportunities to help other people?" Taylor asks, her voice calm and her head title slightly.

Martens' face just grows redder as he sputters and stutters. "I…no…but…"

Taylor just smirks slightly and brushes a bit of dust off the shoulder of her tan blazer.

See? This is why we leave the business to them. You do not cross a Stark unless you feel like getting tangled in your own words.

"Miss Stark." one of the grayer investors to Martens' right steps in. "I understand your want to help other people, but you have to understand that this business is a multibillion dollar operation, and that means we need every dollar we can get in order to sustain ourselves. We need to focus on what _we_ need, not other people." he says slowly, like he was explaining something to a five year old and not one of the most competent nineteen year olds in the world.

"Mr. Ramirez, I fully understand the needs of this business. Believe me, I've been in on business deals since I hit double digits. I know we need the money, and I am not saying we will not benefit at all from this app. In fact, we will get all the profits. But if the success of our projects leads to money for people in a _completely_ different field of the game, what do we have to lose?"

"Miss STARK!" Martens jumps forward, slamming his hands down on the table. Taylor, usually unflappable and as iron as her suit, actually jumps back in surprise. "What do have to lose, you ask? _What do we have to lose?_ You've been doing this for, what, nine years now?"

"Yes sir."

"Then why on earth would you ask such a question? We have a lot to lose. Technology, legal rights, not to mention the whole dang _company._ If you have to ask, I don't know why you hold your position. You are just a teenager. Fit to take over the company one day? Ha! I don't see what-"

Everybody at our side table stiffens, and I quickly glance at and share a small nod with Natasha, Bruce, and Clint, Thor being at home in Asgard at the moment.

"Enough!" I bark, using a voice that can make any soldier snap to attention. The four of us subconsciously form a half circle around Taylor. I take up parade rest by her left side, Clint crosses his arms and leans forward against her chair, Bruce stands by her right side and is fiddling with his phone, and Natasha is in the corner of the room and recording all of this for Tony.

I turn to Martens. "Mr. Martens, correct?"

"Y-yes sir."

"You might know who I am. My name is Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America. That's Dr. Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton. Now, we don't know much about business, I'll admit that. But we _do_ know about Taylor Stark, and we can prove that you, sir, are wrong on all accounts. Bruce?"

"Thank you, Steve." Bruce taps a few buttons on his phone, causing a holographic ID to appear beside him. An ID of one Taylor Stark. "Gentlemen, meet Taylor Stark. Again, I suppose. You say she isn't fit to do this job? I see your doubts and raise you her one hundred ninety eight IQ points. That makes her just about twice as smart as _you_ , Martens, seeing as you only have about ninety of those. She graduated high school at twelve, before she was even a teenager, and then went on to graduate MIT at sixteen. She was expanding the laws of robotics at an age where most kids were learning to drive. She has closed multiple business deals worldwide, and contributed to this company just as much as her father. So, in summary, Taylor Stark is a genius."

"A ruthless negotiator." Natasha adds.

"A tough unit in battle." Clint amends.

"And the best teammate anyone could ask for." I finish. "So I suggest you think before you open your mouth, and remember that a Stark doesn't get anything unless they either make it or earn it."

Clint hums happily as Martens slumps back down, his face the twin to a tomato and unable to form a sentence.

"Thank you." Taylor looks back at us gratefully before turning back to the rest of the table. "I am hereby making the decision to use my veto power as the Vice President of Stark Industries. This app _will_ go through, and anyone that tries to stop in with be fired. Am I understood?"

The table mumbles agreement under her unwavering gaze, and Taylor turns on her heel and walks out like she owns the place.

And she actually might. Tony might, anyways.

Once we all rejoin in the hall, we can all here the click-clack of Taylor's two inch heels approach out of a side hallway.

"Well that was unexpected," is all she says to open the conversation.

"We couldn't let that pass." Bruce explains as if it were obvious. "He was spouting garbage, his brain was…"

"A bag full of cats?" Taylor suggests, referencing one of Bruce's common lines when dealing with villains.

He nods with a grin.

"We're your team, Taylor. You'd do the same for us. Heck, you _have_ done the same, Remember that one guy in Monaco?" I remind her, referencing a skeptic that called me a hoax.

"And that time in Maine?" Bruce adds, talking about a time when General Ross got entirely too close for comfort.

"And California." Natasha points out a bodybuilder that challenged her to a wrestling match.

"Don't forget the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D." Clint reminds us of all the agents who called him a traitor – and worse – after New York.

"Your dad is gonna love this video." Natasha diverts the conversation, waving her phone at us. "Come on, let's send a picture."

It takes about ten minutes for us to get organized and shuffled into a single camera frame.

"Say cheese!" Natasha cues, and we all give our best smiles with stiff backs.

"Okay," Natasha sighs, lowering the camera after two pictures, "now let's take the _real_ picture."

She taps her phone a few times and sets it down on a decorative small table near her before rushing over to us.

Taylor squeals and jumps Natasha, hopping on her back piggy-back style. Natasha just laughs and hooks her arms under Taylor's knees. Clint reaches over and ruffles Bruce's hair, and Bruce gives bunny ears in return. I just laugh and lean back against the center of the wall.

We all hear the click as the picture is taken, and Taylor eventually climbs off Natasha, Bruce flattens his hair, and Clint bats the bunny ears away. We all laugh at each other's antics as we smooth down our clothes and Taylor sheds her blazer, opting to wear just her long sleeved dress shirt and beige slacks.

Then we all check our pockets, just in case, seeing as two of us can steal your mustache from under your nose.

"Natasha, where is my wallet?!"

Natasha, the Black Widow, just runs.


	7. MAJOR AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Major Author's note! Important!**

 **As of today, it has one year since I started writing my first book,** _ **Iron Beta: Life as Tony Stark's Daughter**_ **. One year.**

 **I would like to give a huge thank-you to every person that's ever reviewed, favorited, or followed any of my stories, because there's actually quite a lot of you and you have** _ **no idea**_ **how much I appreciate all of you.**

 **And now, a quick update.**

 _ **Iron Beta**_ **'verse (canon!Avengers):** _ **Dissension**_ **, the latest story in this verse, is coming along smoothly. I am accepting requests for one shots, please PM me if you have a request. And keep reviewing, following, etc.**

 _ **Saved by the Bell**_ **'verse (teacher AU Avengers): consider this verse on hiatus because my muse for that story died. Sorry for all of you that liked that story, but I am taking requests for other AUs as well. PM me or review with an AU idea.**

 _ **Whispers in the Dark**_ **(canon!Harry Potter): this should be getting updated fairly smoothly. The only problem I have with this is that fact that I am literally getting almost no reviews. Do you guys not like this? What's your stance? PLEASE TELL ME.**

 **If anyone has any questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, or the like, please PM me, review, or email me at ironsparrow99 [at symbol] gmail . com.**

 **Thanks,**

 **IronSparrow99.**


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